If Only the Clockwork Could Speak
by Rhine Lei
Summary: Ten years ago, an infection that's been spreading across the population led Beauty's father in search of the ROSE project. The experimental drug had shown promise before it ultimately failed. It's creator, more Beast than man after years of living with his failure, doesn't know how to react when the beautiful, sick young girl shows up looking for her father.
1. Chapter 1

My eyes adjusted to the darkness of the former hospital as I roamed the empty halls. Equipment littered the floor. Papers and supplies were left over from the evacuation. As I walked further away from the lobby, and further away from the gentle glow of the street lights through the windows, I lowered the veil on my cloak. A curtain of sheer silver dropped down to my nose and let me see better in the dark. I continued forward, grateful I wasn't picking up any body heat signals.

When someone moved near me, I jumped. My hand went instinctively to the gun at my hip. I let out a breath when I realized it was my own reflection.

"Pull yourself together!" I scolded myself.

A round mirror with a delicate rose pattern was hanging from a wall. I walked forward and examined it. My fingers traced the delicate silver vines. As I glanced around, I noticed there were many of these mirrors hanging in the hospital.

My attention turned when my hands began to shake. It wasn't from the nerves. The infection was spreading. I leaned against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.

Closing my eyes, I tried to remember my father's face. It has been ten years since I'd last seen him. Coming here was desperate and stupid, but it was also my last hope. Hope I badly needed.

Footsteps to my left made me snap to attention. I waited to see if I would hear it again.

"Hello?" I called, unsure if I wanted someone to answer. "Is someone there?"

No one responded. I tried again, "Please, I'm looking for my father. If you-"

"This way." A voice made me whip around toward a corridor on my left.

I still didn't see any body heat through my veil, but it could only detect a few feet ahead. Gathering my nerve, I followed the sound. My boots on the marble floor were the only noise echoing through the halls. When I reached the end, I stopped. Two large wooden doors towered above me. Instead of the standard electronic locks, a traditional handle shone in the dim light. I reached out a hand and gripped the cold metal. It turned, and I cracked the door open.

"In here." Someone called quietly from inside. I jumped, feeling my heart hammer in my chest.

I closed my eyes.

"Take a deep breath." I pushed myself.

Air flowed sharply through my nose and down my throat, before I exhaled and stepped into the room.

"Hello?" I called into the darkness. Nothing happened. A small sliver of light leaked from under a curtain in the center of the room. I walked forward, and pulled it back. The old streetlights illuminated the room, and my eyes widened in wonder.

"Wow…"

The room was circular, and several stories high. Bookcases lined the walls, with old ladders reaching up through each landing. A set of stairs were on either side of me and led to the next level. I pulled down the hood of my cloak and turned to look around.

A library.

I'd never seen a real one before, and had only encountered a small number of actual paper books in my life. A collection like this must have been hundreds of years old. I walked to a shelf and studied the bindings. Little gold letters were old and worn. Carefully, I removed one and turned the pages with my fingers.

Laughter made me jump again. It sounded like a child running away mischievously.

"Who's there?" I asked in a shaky voice.

Another door opened under the stairs, and I replaced the book before following.

As I entered the new room, the door slammed behind me. I turned to check if it had also locked, and screamed when I saw someone looking back at me.

"Pull yourself together, it's another freaking mirror!" I hissed, again. My hand was firmly against my chest trying to slow my heart. "What am I doing?"

How had I gotten here? I wasn't a detective or an adventurer. I had no business in a place like this, and more than once I reminded myself that I was getting in too deep.

I studied my reflection in the mirror. My dark purple cape draped over one shoulder. My black curls had a hint of red to them when the light hit them just right. My green eyes were tired. Dark circles dominated my pale face. I was surprised when the mirror suddenly zoomed in on my right eye and scanned it. I held very still.

"Subject identified:" A computerized voice coldly announced as the same words popped up above my head, "Adara Megan Luera."

Suddenly, my reflection changed. A beautiful blonde woman, with a sly smile, stared at me. My hands shook more as I watched in confusion. She brought a delicate finger to her pink lips.

"Shhhh," She breathed, "It's time for a story."

I furrowed my brow, "What-"

On my left, another mirror lit up, and a scene began to unfold. A red rose grew and bloomed, releasing a shimmering dust as it did. The dust floated down and spelled out words below.

Once upon a time, a wealthy merchant had three beautiful daughters.

The beautiful women continued to sit in the first mirror and tell the story. She watched me intently as I listened to what she said. I gasped when my father's face was suddenly looking back at me from the second mirror. I still knew the kind smile and weathered cheeks. He wore clothing like I'd only seen in history class. An old black suit and a hat made him look proud and tall.

"Papa?" I called hopefully. The image didn't react. I gently reached out a hand and touched his image. Suddenly, he turned and screamed bloody murder and I stumbled back. I looked at the storyteller to find her watching me expectantly.

"Can't you see he's sick?" She demanded.

My father's image continued to scream. I looked at her again, "What's happening?"

The woman's face began to glitch, fading in and out. More mirrors began to light up. My own image, in the same period style clothing my father's had worn, was pleading desperately.

"I can't stay here another minute!" My own voice insisted.

It cut to an image of myself trying to break out. The mirror appeared to crack as I pounded my fists over and over against the glass. I was surrounded by myself trying to break out in the circular room. All the while my father was still screaming.

"Can't you see he's sick?" The story teller asked again.

"Please!" I begged, covering my ears.

I could still hear my own voice yelling from behind the mirror. The sound of breaking glass also continued.

"You monster!" I yelled at no one in particular.

My hands began to shake more and more and tears filled my eyes.

"Stop!" I shouted desperately.

The door I'd enter through flew open, and I screamed. A creature, more metal than man, charged up to me and grabbed my shoulder. A glowing red eye glared at me as he shouted "What are you doing here?"

I barely heard the question as the world went black.

 _Hi everyone! So this is going to be a very different kind of fanfiction. I am writing this for a scifi contest and when I have it completed I'm going to put it up for votes! This is the first chapter, and keep in mind this is going to be a short story. I am thinking it's going to be more of a prequel, as this is actually an idea I've had for a full length novel. I am doing my best to write this as quickly as I can so don't be surprised if several chapters are loaded at once. Please push me! Tell me what you think! I have never written scifi before so I am trying to push myself to go a little farther than I normally would. Also, read, share and comment and when I'm done writing, if you've enjoyed the story, PLEASE PLEASE vote for it on inkkit . c o m under the Beyond Time writing contest and shamelessly get as my of your friends to vote as well! As always, thank you guys for being amazing readers and I hope you enjoy this story!_


	2. Chapter 2

I woke staring up at the night sky. The stars shone brightly, and the colors of the universe were bold and bright. I don't know how long I spent blinking at them.

As I watched, the image blinked and twitched between the current picture and a brilliant blue sky. I realized the ceiling was another screen. " _Why am I lying on the floor?"_

I couldn't remember what had happened.

"Don't move too quickly." A deep voice warned. It's origin remained out of my sight.

"What happened?" I croaked.

"You fainted." The man said simply.

Despite my confusion, I was already having trouble staying awake. A straw was pressed to my lips. My eyes were already closed when I took a long sip.

"Are you diabetic?" I heard him ask, but the voice was far away.

I was out again before I could answer.

When I opened my eyes again, I was swinging back and forth. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew I was being carried. I wondered by who, but only for a moment.

"What do I do with her?" Came the same deep voice.

"Is she here for the gentleman?" Another male voice asked.

"What did she say?" This one sounded like a kind, elderly lady.

Questions continued, and it sounded like dozens of people were in the room. The voices ranged in age, accent and gender.

"Did you ask her name?"

"Where is she from?"

"She's dehydrated."

"She's pretty."

"Is she going to stay?"

"I don't know!" The deep voice from earlier thundered.

Slowly, I slid my hand to my hip. I tried not to make it obvious I was awake.

"If you're looking for your gun, you won't find it there."

With a sigh, I sat up and looked around. I couldn't see well. The room was dimly lit.

"Haven't you heard of overhead lighting?" I asked.

"Excuse me?"

I touched my head, groaning against the headache pounding in my skull. "I've barely been able to see since I got in here."

My cloak had bunched around my neck and I unhooked the clasp to keep it from choking me. I'd been laying on a cold metal table in what looked like an old operating room.

"Considering I don't wish for anyone to come here, it appears the ambiance is doing it's job."

I thought it was an odd. I valued my solitude as well, but I didn't want it all the time.

"Why don't you let me ask the questions?"

I looked up, annoyed. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you broke into my home, armed, and I think I deserve some answers."

When I pulled my hand away from my head, I blinked at the blood on my fingertips.

"Oh wow…" I breathed.

The man's deep voice grumbled as he added, "You're going to have to let me stitch that."

I looked warily in the direction the voice was coming from, "Do you know what you're doing?"

He ignored the question. "I'm going to need to come closer. I need you not to scream."

I looked in his direction warily, "Why would I scream?"

The memory of a glowing red eye came back to me and I shuttered. He waited as the memory crashed over me.

"Oh…" I breathed.

Carefully, he stepped into the light and I did my best not to seem frightened. His hands were almost completely robotic. His right eye was human, and looked me over skeptically.

"Who are you?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Does your neck hurt?" He asked.

I shook my head. "What?"

"You're neck. Does it hurt?"

I gently moved my head around before shaking my head.

"Good," He nodded simply. "Can you move your hands and feet?"

I turned all my fingers and toes to his satisfaction. He quietly shone a light in both of my eyes and checked my ears and nose.

"You bumped your head, but there doesn't seem to be any real damage."

Not looking at me, he undid the bindings on his wrist and released his hands. I could see where the metal had made markings along his skin from hours of wear.

"Grab my fingers," He insisted as he put two fingers in each of my hands. I looked at them in shock, surprised how warm they felt. "Alright, now squeeze."

When he was finished, he replaced his mechanical hands and turned to me. Light glinted off the inhuman skeleton, and I wondered how much of it was actually needed. How many had he added of his own accord?

"Alright. I need you to lay facing away from me so I can sew up that cut."

"Sew?" I asked, nervously.

"The hospital hasn't exactly been well stocked since the evacuation. There is no glue and no staples to use instead, so it's going to have to be the old fashioned way.

He sat next to me in a chair while I lay still on the table. His robotic hands didn't falter.

"Who are you?" I asked again.

He sighed, ignoring me.

"You're clearly a doctor. Have you been here ever since-"

"I am nobody of consequence." He continued to focus on my wound.

I closed my mouth a moment, gnawing on my bottom lip, before saying, "I'm looking for my father."

He scoffed, "Well, you've wasted your time. No one has been here for a very long time."

I shook my head, "No, you don't understand. The last time I saw my father was ten years ago."

This time, his hands held still. I glanced back to see him studying my face. It was hard to tell what he would look like without the additional parts he was wearing. His chin was covered in stubble, and his outgrown hair fell in front of his face.

"Why would you come here?" He asked, finishing his last stitch and tying it off.

My hands shook and I grasped them together to keep him from seeing. It didn't work. The cold metal hands reached over and grabbed one of my own to look at them.

"ROSE," He said simply.

I nodded. "My father was determined-"

"Well, you both wasted your time. It was a failure, or were you too young to remember everything that happened?" He hissed.

I glared at him. "I'm not a child to be patronized. Everyone remembers. Even those who hadn't been born have heard the stories."

"Then why would you come here looking for something that cannot help you?" He demanded.

I sighed, "I didn't. My father- he was willing to do anything."

Leaning back, the man sighed. "What stage?"

"Three." My eyes flickered to the floor.

He stiffened. "It's rare to see it progress so far in someone so young."

"I was 11 when I was diagnosed. By then I was already at stage two."

"And how old are you now?" He asked in a practiced manner. There was an ease and a clinicalness to how he gathered information.

"I'm 25."

He rubbed his chin while he thought. I watched the light glint off his mechanical limbs. He stood, walking over to a table and writing on a notepad. I couldn't hear what he was saying as he mumbled to himself.

"Look," I said, "I'm not here for a cure. I just want to find my father."

He didn't respond as he continued to scribble.

"Did you hear me?"

When he still wouldn't turn to look at me, my frustration grew.

"HEY!" I shouted, making him look up in surprise. "I'm not here for your damn drug. I'm here to find my father. Now, can you _please_ tell me something?"

He exhaled as he debated whether to answer me. I held his gaze, refusing to look away no matter how uncomfortable the mechanical eye made me feel.

"A man came here, years ago, asking about the ROSE project."

"Who was he?" I stood.

"The gentleman who ended up on my doorstep that night was looking for a cure for his daughter."

"Papa…" I breathed. "What happened to him?"

"I told him I couldn't help him."

Folding my arms over my chest I pressed, "And when he asked the third and fourth time?"

The man laughed gently. It was a surprising sound, and I didn't realized it caused me to relax just a fraction.

"Like father, like daughter?" I wetted my lips and waited for him to continue. He nodded, "Eventually we came to a deal."

I narrowed my eyes, "What kind of deal?"

"Before ROSE… failed, thousands had started seeing results. The stages were dramatically reduced in months, but no one was completely cured."

Suspicion began to bloom in my chest, but I said nothing.

"Research was showing promise. There was a chance that with new studies-"

I closed my eyes. "What did you do?"

He hesitated. "You're father and I-"

Charging across the room, I ignored how much larger he was then me, and that his enhanced limbs could snap me like a twig. I leaned into his face and demanded, "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

 _Hello again everyone! I'm excited for how this story is coming together, but I've not had a ton of experience with Scifi so let me know what you think! Remember to R &R and thank you again for being amazing readers! When this is over, if you've enjoyed the story, or any of my stories, please vote for this on Inkitt . c o m under the Beyond Time contest! Thanks everyone! _


	3. Chapter 3

My hands were shaking from anger this time, but I dreaded the fit I felt coming on. All the events of the day were taking a toll on me. I coughed, and felt the usual shrinking sensation in my throat. That was followed by the panic when I took a breath, only to realize it wasn't enough air.

I wheezed, coughing again. The man didn't hesitate. He reached out a steadying hand when my body stiffened and I continued to hack.

"Relax," He instructed, trying to sit me down on the table again. His fingers were large enough to hold both of my wrists together and pull them up for me.

"Do you have an inhaler?" He asked.

Inbetween coughs, I choked out, "Cloak."

He glanced around until he noticed my cloak crumpled on the floor. Hooking it around my shoulders, I threw the hood up and pressed a button on the left inside of the collar. The same veil dropped drown in front of my face and released a mist. I breathed deeply, closing my eyes.

Once I'd caught my breath, I wiped fresh blood from the corner of my mouth.

When I glanced up, the man was watching me intently.

"It's spread to your larynx."

It wasn't a question.

I shook my head, "Don't change the subject."

He looked me over more. Even went as far as trying to pull out a stethoscope and listen to me breath.

"Don't touch me." I warned, pulling away.

He glared at me. "It could very well spread to your heart next. If it hasn't done so already."

I returned the hostility, "What did you do?"

" _I_ didn't do anything. Your father offered to be part of a new study."

I sat very still and absorbed that information. Snapping my eyes back on him, I demanded.

"How could he be part of a study? He isn't-" I stopped and looked up at him. Dr. Mckay held my gaze.

"In order for him to become a test subject we had to inject him with the virus."

My jaw fell. "Are you kidding me?"

"He consented. He's a grown man capable of making his own-"

"You actually let him do that? What kind of a monster are you?"

He flinched, becoming defensive.

"Where is he?"

"I don't-"

"WHERE?"

That same mechanical eye zoomed in and out, before he turned and stalked down a corridor.


End file.
